Cliche Storm flash fic

by **Corenat Rovarnus** 2015-07-24, 15:43

I recently read this article listing all the things you shouldn't do in a short story. I decided to take the obvious route and pile it all into a single story. Enjoy. Oh and if you don't comment on this post, like it, and reshare it 50 times it will happen to you. With the little dead girl, bloody mickey mouse, etc.

Golden rays of sunlight streamed through the stained glass window of the diner, lighting up the dust motes swirling around the Devil’s erect penis.

“So you got cancer, huh?” he asked the bartender. “What kind is it? Testicular? Colon?”
“That’s not funny, Devil,” God said, sitting one chair to the right.
“I’m sorry man, I forgot your boy had it too,” the Devil said.
God facepalmed. “Holy shit, Devil, I keep telling you, he’s got Alzheimer’s disease! That’s completely different.”
“I guess you could say I…forgot,” the Devil said as he masturbated furiously.

The blaring television set above the bar suddenly displayed static, eliciting more groaning from God. Unlike the Devil, his member was completely flaccid. He made a half-hearted attempt to stroke it, then sighed.
“Aaaand we can’t even watch the game. Okay, this circlejerk is officially a complete failure.”

“It’s okay” the bartender said as he patted God on the head. “I’ve got just the drink to drown your sorrows in.”
God turned away, continuing to sulk. “Don’t pretend you don’t know that this is all your fault.”
“Me? I was set up to inherit eleventy billion dollars from Uncle Scrooge! I wouldn’t even be here if those nasty lawyers hadn’t interfered.”
“Eleventy? Are you serious?” the Devil asked. “That’s not even a real number. Man, you probably shouldn’t have dropped out of school.”
“Mmhmm,” God vocalized his agreement as he snorted a line of cocaine down the counter with a rolled up dollar bill.
“Okay that’s it, I wasn’t going to tell you guys but you’re asking for it now. COME ON OUT BABY!”
A voluptuous slut dressed in clown makeup, an old fashioned coat, and nothing else burst through the back door of the diner. The bartender immediately dropped his pants and began fucking the slut up the ass. “I’ve been cheating on you with him the whole time!” the slut crowed.

The marijuana pipe dropped from the Devil’s gaping mouth.
“THAT’S MY WIFE!”
“THAT’S MY HUSBAND!” God shouted at the same time.

They looked at each other with abject horror.
“What the fuck!”
“You’re married?”
“You were married to him too?”
“She’s a fucking guy? With a dick and everything?”
“He’s a woman?”
“HOW DO YOU KNOW MY MOTHER!?”
“WHAT THE FUCK?!?!”

The Devil slammed his not-so-horny-anymore head onto the counter.
“God, I’m done. I am soooo done.”
God shook his head. “Fucking transvestites…”

They packed up their suitcases, making sure to steal as much from the bar as they could.
Hands on each other’s penises, they walked out of the diner trying to get hard once more.

Then the bartender woke up. “Shit, it was all a dream.”